


1-900- Richonne

by BLKGURLSMUSE



Series: Richonne Lemon Shots [20]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Not Beta Read, Other, Phone Sex, Unrequited Love, What Have I Done, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:28:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25972867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BLKGURLSMUSE/pseuds/BLKGURLSMUSE
Summary: Seattle, Washington 1991Michonne Anthony, a 25 -year old student is burdened with student fees and the cost of living on the constant increase. So the beautiful barista takes a second job at Hot-Chat, a phone sex business.At the age of 30, Rick Grimes runs his own company that is growing in revenue due to high demand, he is enjoying life as a wealthy bachelor. Loneliness only gets to him every now and then which leads him to call a phone sex number.
Relationships: Rick Grimes/Michonne
Series: Richonne Lemon Shots [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/370550
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated R - Sexually explicit language

****

**MICHONNE POV**

Oh, baby, that's so good, tell me again, he breathed heavily into the phone. I could hear him groan and the faint sound of him jerking off in the background.

"Harder Josh, I need it harder!" My voice got higher on the last word and I stifled a giggle that wanted to scape me when my words elicited another loud groan from the man at the other end. I swallowed my amusement and sketched another line on my drawing.

My drawing was coming along nicely, and I grinned to myself as I made all the appropriate noises 'Josh' was expecting. I doubted his name was Josh as all, but if that's what he wanted to be called and I did what I was told so I could get paid. Being a phone sex operator was fun at first, but it got old pretty quickly. I'd taken up drawing caricatures of what I imagined the voice over the phone would look like and it certainly helped the time pass at night. I finished up the portrait an I called it Eugene. I pictured a hefty man with, squinty eyes, cherub cheeks, and a funny outdated hairstyle. 'Josh' had begun his heavy breathing that sounded more like raspatory issues than passion.

"Uhhhh...Ohhhh" Josh's grunt of satisfaction rang through the headset and I mirrored his moans like I had an orgasm. He panted for a minute before thanking me and hanging up. I snickered and I clicked my headset off. I rolled my chair over to my computer and debated on whether I should take another call or just quit for the night. It was already close to 2 am, I tapped my fingers on the desk and sighed. "One more call and then it's bedtime," I said to myself and clicked the icon next to my profile.

I was surprised when the call immediately rang. It happens, but I am never quite prepared for it.

The good news is, it always makes me sound breathless when I answer. "This is Michelle, what's your fantasy?" That opening line is so dumb, super cheesy, but that's what the owner wants us to use, so be it. There was no response on the other end and I frowned. "Hello, are you still there? "I asked, keeping my voice cheerful. A brief cough sounded before a low voice spoke.

"Sorry, ah I...Didn't expect that opening."

His response surprised me, and I settled back in my chair. "What did you expect?"

"Something else... something, not so cliché."

A laugh burst out of me. I couldn't believe someone actually agreed with me, and out of all people, a caller.

"Let me guess, you've never called a number like this before," I said, making sure my voice was laced with pure skepticism.

A dark chuckle resonated through the line and goosebumps prickled my skin. My mouth dropped open at the reaction. My body has never responded to the dirtiest of words since the first week of calls. After a month, I was totally desensitized. Still, I held a small feeling of satisfaction that nothing but my voice and words are able to make men and sometimes women come.

"I haven't, actually." He paused, then continued. "I'm not sure what made me call tonight either. Or why I am even confessing this to you."

I smiled, as I took in his voice. I quickly grabbed my pencil and began to sketch. "Well, I am here for whatever you need. If you want to get dirty, or just talk. It's up to you."

My pencil glided over the paper and I could tell this was not going to be a humorous caricature. There was something about his voice, his laugh, that would not allow me to draw anything cartoonish. This voice was different for some reason.

"Well, that leaves a lot of options open," He hummed and my nipples perked at the low vibration. "Can I ask you some questions?"

I paused, wondering how to answer that. I didn't want to give anything personal away. I bit my lip and tapped my pencil on the desk.

"Michelle I would not ask anything that will make you uncomfortable. You can also pass on a question if you don't want to answer."

I let out an audible sigh, relief filled me at his clarification.

"Well in that case, yes, I would be happy to answer your questions."

"Perfect...Michelle, tell me, what makes you wet?"

I dropped my pencil; I was not expecting that question...at all.

"Uh..." I was stuttering and I could hardly catch my breath. What the hell is wrong with me?

He chuckled again and continued. "Little Michelle tongue-tied...I'm just wondering what you like. If you want me to pound your sexy body from behind, or if you like your thighs around my head, so I can eat you for dessert, " Everything he says flows as smooth as a meadow river and my head becomes as light as it would from just the aroma of such a place. Of course, it helps that his voice is deep. A small moan escaped me, shocking the hell out of me again. I realized I was wet. Very wet. My clit was throbbing with desire and this man, this total stranger was to blame."…Are you getting turned on by my questions?"

I cleared my throat and was finally gaining some composure. I had a strong desire to turn him on just like he was doing to me. And I know just how to do it. Besides, I'm a professional here. I didn't even flinch when the guy last week asked to listen to me go to my bathroom and take a piss.

"As a matter of fact, I'm so wet right now, dripping wet. I'd like to climb on top of your big hard cock and ride you until you erupt like a volcano."

I heard him draw in a sharp breath and I grinned. He was surprised by my dirty response.

Although I don't know why; He'd called a sex line for crying out this is what we do.

"So, you are a naughty girl! Will you tell me what you look like?"

I hesitated, not wanting to tell him too much. "You can pick one thing."

He barely took a second to choose, "How tall or you?"

He surprised me again, I was sure he was going to ask about my breast, or if I shaved my pussy. That's what most guys ask.

"I'm 5'7, without heels, but I love heel's so that makes me 5'9."

"Perfect, I bet your petite, with a gorgeous frame an addictive smile, and legs that won't quit."

His words made me blush. Oh my, I'm really blushing. My cheeks are burning the fuck up!

"Thank you," I mumbled.

"You are very welcome Michelle, well, that's all the time I have tonight, but I will certainly call you again."

"Why?" I blurted out and instantly felt worried. I wondered why he suddenly wanted to leave.

"Why? Because you intrigue me...you're funny, obviously intelligent and your voice makes me hard as fuck, why wouldn't I call back."

My mouth dropped open, but not a motherfucking word came out. I was speechless. A communications major, straight A's mind you.

"Until next time Michelle."

"Wait!" I yelped, my heart was pounding, hoping he had not already hung up.

"Yes?" He said calmly.

"I was just wondering...what your name is...or what I should call you."

"Rick."

"Rick," I smiled, "Alright...Goodnight, Rick."

"Goodnight naughty, Michelle."

My body heated up at his words and I smiled even more. I took off my headset and shut my computer down. I took a look at my sketch, taking in what I had managed to draw. Dark hair, Stunning eyes, a strong jaw, straight nose, and teasing lips. A part of me regretted that I was too caught up in words to complete the drawing. I shut off my lamp and climbed into bed, wondering when I'd talk to that voice who calls himself Rick again.


	2. Chapter 2

****

**Rick POV**

I gazed out of my office window without really seeing anything. My mind thinking about the girl I'd talked to on the phone at 2 AM. Last night, I was so drunk that I was past the point of sleeping.

When I randomly called the sex line because I'd seen the commercial for it on tv. I have never expected to get someone as funny and dirty as Michelle. Damn, she had the sexiest voice I'd heard in a time-if ever. I hadn't lied when I told her the greeting was a huge cliché, but that wasn't truly the reason I paused. When she'd answered, her voice reminded me of someone from my past. But I was sure there was no way it was her and I certainly didn't want to start thinking about my fucked-up past, especially while I'm drunk.

"Rick!" My best friend's voice caused me to wince at the resulting ringing in my ears and pounding in my head.

"Shit, do you have to be so fucking loud?"

"Only when you're not listing to a damn thing I saying. Are you okay man?"

"Yeah, just didn't get much sleep."

Shane and I had been friends for years, and he knows everything about me, but I didn't want to tell him what was on my mind…Michelle belongs to me.

"Yeah, well, you need to get it together, we need to get this proposal finished and faxed over in the next hour."

"I'm on it," I spun my chair so it faced my desk and logged onto my computer. Now I'm fascinated by two things Michelle and the new creation called the World Wide Web- WWW- for short. I pull up our website to see what my computer guys came up with. I smiled appreciatively, the music, color, and the general theme was perfect. It also gave me other ideas that I'd implement later. After I was done collecting some more data, I saved everything on the CD ROM. I also printed out the ROI and future earnings data.

Shane was more than happy with being the voice of the company. He was much better with presenting and the general schmoozing with the 'big wigs'. I guess my aversion to bigwigs is having been raised by one.

It was a little after 2 PM when my stomach growled and I decided to go out for lunch. I didn't bother asking Shane, he was on a major workout regime and only ate salmon and broccoli for dinner, the rest of the day he drank nasty-ass protein shakes.

"I'll be back in about an hour," I said to Carol, as I walked past the front desk and out of the lobby.

I drove through downtown traffic to Abe's Bar, my favorite place to go when I'm working. His cozy bar opens promptly at noon and the man always has some funny limerick to tell you. Best of all, he makes the best sandwiches and his waffle cut fries are amazing. He tells anyone who will listen that he makes weekly trips to Scholz Farms for his potatoes, carrots, and of course apples.

"Hi, Rick, what'll ya have buddy…" Abe asked as I slid into an empty barstool.

"Hi Abe, just going to have my usual," I said, nodding a hello to the only other person sitting at the bar.

"Coming right up." Abe poured me ice water and went back into the kitchen.

"The Seahawks are going to make the playoffs this season." The older man said, taking a bite out of his Reuben sandwich, nodding his head at the TV news anchor.

I nodded and smiled. I wasn't into football, I was more of a baseball guy. I was about to change the subject, ask him how he liked the sandwich, when something, or rather someone caught my eye.

She appeared in the room with the cool air billowing around her skirt. Umber skin never looked so beautiful on a woman. With long black braided hair and her head held high, she waltzed on with an effortless saunter. Her body was a work of art, so petite, yet curvaceous. Her dress hugged every single curve. The dress was appropriate, the neckline didn't show any cleavage. But on this beautiful woman, it merely covered her curves like gift wrapping. I had thoughts of ripping that dress off and see exactly what she's working with. I squinted, trying to get a closer look at her face. She was picking up an order, Sasha was ringing the order and before I could think of a reason to approach her, she had paid for her food and left.

That woman, her body, just what I pictured Michelle's body would look like. Just the type of body that has always driven me crazy with desire. But there was something else… I chuckled inwardly, as Abe handed me my roast beef sandwich and waffle fries. I thanked him double time, the smell of food took over my raging libido.

* * *

**Michonne POV**

I was devastated when Milton said he'd have to cut my hours down to 10 hours a week at the coffee shop.

"That's half my hours," I protested in vain.

"Blame the competition opening up all around us." He shrugged while wiping down the counter. "Maggie left to work at the one in Belltown, everyone is raving about the trendy drinks. Now, they're opening one right down the road." He shook his head and literally threw in the towel. It landed in the sink. "I hope it's just a fad." He clicked on the TV and tuned out.

I had heard about the chain of coffee shops opening in Pike Place Market and Belltown, but I never thought Starports would become so popular.

One thing is for sure, there was no way I could pay rent next month if I continue to work here. So, I put in my two weeks, finished my shift, hung up my apron, and left. I had homework and tons of studying before class tomorrow. My sweet southern mother taught me, that the worst thing is studying on an empty stomach. So, I called in an order at one of my favorite places.

Abe's bar is never really busy, but a handful of regulars are always on deck. Abe the owner, cook, and his beautiful wife Sasha are always there with a smiling face, hot beef stew, and warm apple pie.

I walk in today and just as expected, only a handful of patrons peppered the old pub. Although there was one face I hadn't seen before. Even from this distance, there was no denying how handsome the man is. There is something familiar about him, I just couldn't place it.

"Hi Michonne," Sasha cheerfully greeted me with my bag of delicious smelling food. I instantly lost my thoughts about identifying the handsome man and paid for my food.

I paged Maggie, knowing she was at work. She's one of my closest friends, and I know she'll call me back on her break or after her shift. I wanted to know if Starports has any openings. I'd have to take the bus to Belltown, but it's only a twenty-minute ride from my apartment.

I was finishing up the calculus assignment and my food when my phone rang. I answered with a hum, just after I had taken my last bite of apple pie.

"Hi Michonne," Maggie's cheerful voice practically sang at me.

"Hi Maggie, how's it going."

"If the 'it' you speak of is the job at Starports, than it's going fantastic," She said, "I would have called you, but I figured you'd be calling soon."

"Reading my mind," I replied with a chuckle.

She let out an easy laugh, "So you want the good news or the bad first?"

"I'll take the bad I suppose."

"We're fully staffed here. The pay is amazing, $8.00 an hour, with a minimum 25-hour workweek, so no one's quitting anytime soon."

I was happy for Maggie, that's the perfect job for her, she lives in Belltown so no more riding the bus for her.

"Damn girl that's fantastic, so happy for you Mags, you know I am, now gimme some good news."

"Another Starports is opening on 1st avenue next to Safeco Field, my manager here will begin interviews for that location tomorrow."

"That's what I'm talking about," I said with obvious relief. "Will you put in a good word for me?" I asked.

"Done, although, you don't need it, you're the best…All you need to know is Mr. Monroe- aka Reg, has three must-haves in order to get the job. One, you must have formal barista training, you do, so pass. Two, he'll ask if you've worked as a barista for over a year at one location, check. Three, he'll ask you to make him something."

"Make him something?" I asked, making sure I heard her right.

"Yep, he'll ask you to make a cappuccino, macchiato, an Irish coffee, something... and then the cooking timer will begin. If the drink is awful or you don't make it in the time allowed, your out."

"Well, that's certainly different from the way Milton interviewed us."

"Yeppers," She agreed and we both chuckled.

Two years ago, Maggie and I met at Trinity, a nightclub in downtown Seattle. She was a waitress and I was a bartender. We both walked out one night after the owner snorted too much cocaine and decided it was okay to keep grabbing our asses while we tried to work. That was not the first time he had done that, hell, he allowed his patrons to harass us all the time. Needless to say, we had enough, we took our tips, a bottle of top-shelf vodka and never looked back. We were both so afraid. We stayed up half the night drinking and wondering if we'd have to move back home with our parents. Maggie did not want to live on her father's farm in Oregon. And going home was out of the question for me. The memories, that house was no longer a home, so there was no way I was going back to Georgia. The next day we ended up at Milton's Café. He was the only one who would hire us on the spot and all we had to do was take the barista course at the community college. Milton is a good guy and I wish him the best, but at $4.75 an hour with only a 10-hour week, my lights will get shut off in no time. So after class tomorrow, I'll try my luck with Starports.

As for tonight, I've got a few more hours of studying, and then it'll be time to log on to Hot-Chat. I'm actually looking forward to working tonight...the possibility of Rick calling excited me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Rick POV**

After my nice little lunch hour, the rest of the workday took a slight decline. Back at the office, the first thing I noticed was Carol, she looked visibly upset.

"He has no right to fire me!" Her voice held a slight tremble that echoed across the lobby. She sprung up from her seat and ran over to me from behind her desk. She stood right in front of me, preventing me from proceeding down the hall.

"Fire you?"

"That was not my fault!" She went on, calling Shane all types of 'assholes' and I was quickly able to deduce he was the reason for her annoyance. Now it was time to figure out why.

"Carol, you'll need to back up and tell me what is going on?" I asked firmly and maneuvered, so I could make my way down the hall.

"He never told me who could or couldn't come in, for all I knew, he called them over to have a threesome."

"Called who…Carol, what the hell are you talking about?" I asked her, she was on the verge of tears at this point.

"Why are you still here?" Shane stormed out of his office yelling.

He closed the door behind him, but not before I got a glimpse of the destroyed room.

"I'm not going anywhere until I talk to Rick," Carol opposed.

"Hold on," I snapped at them both, "Let's go to my office and talk this out."

Carol huffed and nodded. Shane gave me a disapproving glare. I pushed past them both and went the rest of the way down the hall to my office. I was seated all of two seconds when the noise began again.

"I can't believe Carol let those crazy bitches' storm in on me like that." Shane's grating voice seeped into my ear, his tone was ridiculously high pitched when he was upset.

"Hey, man-whore, don't blame this shit on me," Carol leaned against my desk crossing her arms. She was facing Shane so I couldn't see her face, but I didn't have too, I knew she was starring hot daggers into his face, just as I was, my gut was telling me that Shane is the one who screwed up the most, "stop trying to date all the models in Seattle and maybe you can get your work done on time." Carol said her voice was downright scary.

"I don't tell you how to do your job," Shane hissed back, "Oh that's right, a capuchin could do your job."

"That's enough!" I sneered at them both, knowing exactly what transpired, "Now it's my turn to talk."

I stand from my desk and move to the middle of the room, standing in between them, "So let me get this straight, Carol let two, 'vengeful vixens' finesse their way into the office while you were on a conference call with the shareholders." I huff in disbelief while shifting my gaze to Shane, "Instead of escorting your uninvited guest out, you get into a big clusterfuck with them. The shareholders got an earful, some hung up and are done with us for good. When the dust finally settles, you thought it would be a good idea to fire Carol."

Shane looked positively stunned, his mouth parted slightly, I turn my stern gaze to Carol, "Carol, you're certainly not fired, but you need to do a better job screening onsite guest. No one should be able to walk into our office off the street without an appointment. If they won't leave call security immediately, Understood…"

"Yes sir," She took a deep breath in relief and promptly made her way towards the door.

"The least you could do is apologize," Shane tittered just as Carol walked past him.

"I'm sorry Rick," Carol scoffed, added a glare in my direction, and strolled away.

"Rick," Shane began, and I sharply cut his ass off.

"Shane, how bad is this?"

"I was on a conference call with Chen, Marshall, Vogel, and Myers, all of a sudden those crazy bitches Andrea and Jessica storm in giving me an ultimatum."

"That's what the little mute button is for Walsh," I pointed my finger onto his chest to emphasize on my point.

"I had no time, as soon as I told those stupid whores to fuck off, they both started having hissy-fits, throwing shit at me, breaking shit; Carol took forever calling security, instead of pulling those rabid beavers off me, she sat at her desk eating a fucking tuna fish sandwich the entire time."

I held in a brief chuckle, picturing the spectacle. My amusement quickly faded. Shane is holding something back.

"You didn't answer my question, how bad is it?"

"I may be able to get Vogel back, the rest of them are on board." His tone was too nonchalant and it pissed me off.

"What do you mean you may be able to Vogel back?" I felt my blood pressure steady elevating, "You do realize Vogel was one of our biggest investors."

He gulped, his eyes focused on the vein rising on my forehead.

"Well, I got everyone back on the conference call, I presented the proposal, we discuss contribution numbers, profits and everyone was on board...Everyone except Vogel. He called me back and said he was offended by what he heard and started preaching to me about morals and scruples, and all that bullshit, not sure I can win him back…"

He shrugged and I about lost it.

"Win him back, we need his money," I whispered in a deep breath. I took a step back and distanced myself from him, the urge to punch him was tempting.

"He said I need Jesus and he wants me to go to church with him and his family." Shane let his eyes roll and he shrugged his shoulders again.

The image of Shane in a church was hilarious, but I was too pissed off at this point to even laugh on the inside, "Then go, get baptized, join the choir, get ordained, whatever it takes to win him back!"

Shane's eyes widen at my response, he knew that's what he had to do. He'd always be my friend, but this is his job and I expect him to deliver. Shane's commitment is unquestionable, He immediately called Mark Vogel on my office phone. I was impressed, he's actually going to go to drive all the way to Tacoma and go to church with Mark, his wife Kate, and their twin boys.

Before I left the office, I got more bad news. My other business partner and district manager Spencer Monroe would be out for a week or so, his wife was in a terrible car accident while visiting her family in Portland, he'll be out of town for several weeks in order to be at her side. I gave him my best wishes and ordered flowers for his wife.

By the time I left the office, I was in full panic mode. Tomorrow is open interviews for the latest store opening. Now, that Spencer is out, I'll have to spend my entire day tomorrow helping the General Manager interview people for the store that's scheduled to open in two weeks.

Luckily after that, things got a little better. My cousin, Aaron, stopped by, as he often does. Aaron Ross is related to me from my mother's side. Out of my five cousins, Aaron and I have the most in common, we're the same age, the only child and still single. He's lived in Seattle most of his life and is the reason I chose Seattle for my 'start over' place. As kids, we spent every Thanksgiving and Christmas together. He's also my silent business partner and investor.

Tonight, I'm hoping that he'll become my temporary district manager.

We had a few shots of our favorite whiskey and reminisced about the times we'd sneak shots of alcohol when our moms were in the kitchen talking and our dads were watching football in the den. Aaron is a reminder that not everything from my past was painful.

"I thought my hefty investment would prevent me from having to work." He chuckled and took another shot, "I was planning on just sitting back and reaping the benefits."

"Please Aaron, there's just not a lot of people I trust, and have the knowledge to conduct interviews. Shane is just too busy right now, but if you say no, he'll have to do it."

After a few more shots and several more pleads, I get my very reluctant cousin to agree to help me next week.

I was still on my own for tomorrow, it was just too short of notice. But at least I don't have to rely on Shane so heavily now.

The rest of the evening was spent watching some old home videos and we ended up falling asleep on the couch. I woke up a few hours later it was nearly 2 AM. I tried waking my cousin, but he was out; so, I covered him with an afghan and headed to my room.

I shut my door behind me and once I made it to my bedroom leaned against it, taking a few deep breaths. This time last night was spent talking to that heavenly angelic voice who calls herself Michelle. I'd promised her, I would call her back, and damn, I would love to do just that.

But I can't risk it, not with Aaron in the other room. So, I tried my best to go back to sleep. The moment I closed my eyes, the strangest image surfaced. It was a mixture of the woman I'd saw at Abe's and a young beauty I had a crush on years ago.

Back home from college for summer break, I snuck into my house a little after midnight. That way I'd avoid my parents just in case they're not getting along, which was often the case. I went upstairs and noticed the guest bathroom upstairs was being remodeled. I got inside my room and stripped down, grabbing a towel and headed to my bathroom. Flipping on the light, the first thing I saw was a pair of lacy white panties. I avert my gaze, something inside me jolted and I remember my mother telling me about Mrs. Anthony's daughter. I felt ashamed of being attracted to a 15-year-old. But I couldn't help it. She was gorgeous, mysteriously quiet, and quick-witted when spoken too, that always surprised me. Curiosity pulled me to the guest room nearest to my room. I never knew who's going to be there on any given weekend. The light was off, but the door was slightly cracked open. I was about to walk away as a faint noise coming from inside caught my attention.

"Rick…"

I froze as my name hit my ears. A sensual breathy moan caused my body to react. I placed my fingertips on the doors pressing lightly, I needed to confirm with my eyes what I thought I was hearing. The door moved slightly enough for me to see her on the bed, covers shoved to the side. The moonlight shone on her tiny half-naked form, she wore a little white tank top and another pair of those lacy white panties, just like the ones she left in my bathroom. Her legs were parted, one hand inside her underwear and the other teasing her hard nipple.

I froze, my heart stuttered at the sight; blood pumped to my cock and I became instantly hard.

"Rick,"

I watched her writhe and arch her body as she started to come.

It took a few moments but I snapped out of the visual wonder and rejoined reality. I jolted away from the door and quietly hurried back to my room. I let out a growl of frustration as soon as my door was shut, willing myself to forget what I had just seen.

An entire decade later and I still haven't forgotten.

* * *

**Michonne POV**

The rain bore down mercilessly upon the heart of the city, falling steadily without let up since I got home this afternoon. Something about this rain has me more relaxed than I've been in days and I'm in no hurry for the clouds to vanish. My shoulders relax and my mind quietens and I sink deeper into my chair, waiting for a call. I sit and listen to the rain grow heavier and more confident until I'm sure that this is the only thing I should be doing with the rest of the night. I sifted through my sketchpad, stopping on my picture of the Black-Eyes Susan flower. I peer at the inspiration sitting on the window-sill and the images come flooding in.

Memories are a gentle reminder of something passed. I slide over to the plant and take in the aroma. It brushes through the subconscious, recalling recollections that bring out the deepest spark of nostalgia of the soul. They say that the strongest link to sparking a memory is through one of the six senses - not sight, taste, or touch, not even sound, but -smell. My mom and I had a garden full of 'Black-Susan's' back in Atlanta. My beautiful, wise mother Audrey Hill married my father Marvin Anthony when she was 18, she had me at 21 and our family was happy for many years after that.

I'm not sure when or what lead my dad down the dark path of addiction, but I know first-hand what it does to families. I often wonder what my life would have been like if my mother had not worked herself to death for a man who constantly took advantage of her love and trust. I dismiss my rueful thoughts of my father, knowing that they only lead to self-pity and I'm beyond that. I've overcome so much and I don't plan on giving up until I've made something of myself. I flip through the pages and smile at the half-drawn picture of Rick.

"Rick," I said his name aloud and before I even realized it, the image of my childhood crush began to ebb and flow in my mind. I began to draw, filling in 'phone Rick's' hair with the soft loose curls of 'crush Rick'.

Richard Grimes was 20, too old for me back then, and even if we were the same age, we were from two different worlds. I was the daughter of the help and he was the son of one of a wealthy mogul. I can count on one hand how many times Rick and I briefly conversed. I'd be at his mansion on weekends and he'd be there on a break from college.

Despite the age and social class difference, I still wondered what it would be like to be with him. Rick's eyes seemed to bore into me every time he looked at me, he seemed to lose himself. That was the most unforgettable thing about him, those stunning, deep blue eyes. His cerulean gaze held truth that his face could not hide. Rick seldom smiled with his lips, but I could see a mischievous smile when he peered at me. I could also see the loneliness, longing, desire; there was something solemn swimming in his eyes.

A call beeped in, taking me away from my thoughts.

"This is Michelle, what's your fantasy?" It was a few minutes past midnight and this is my first call, a perfect indicator of a very slow night.

"Oh, hey there Michelle!" I recognized the voice, it was one of my regulars, 'DJ', I flipped through my book and found my sketch of him and we chatted. A few hours later I found myself fiddling with my headset, spinning my pencil between my fingers, just waiting.

"What am I doing?" I scoffed out loud while rubbing my tired eyes. It's after 2 AM and it's obvious Rick is not going to call. I feel silly waiting for him; I should have gone to bed an hour ago. So, I logged off and did just that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Michonne POV**

I'm the first to arrive at the store on 1st Avenue at 9 am that brisk Monday morning. I stood under the awning watching the rain-soaked ground. There's something about that water, that reservoir so deep, that feels cozy even in this early fall.

Soon, I'm joined by another woman, and then a man and then two more women. I'm sure more will be arriving soon, but since these are open interviews and people have until noon, I'd imagine the rest of them will arrive long after I am gone. About fifteen minutes pass before the store manager Alden McAuliffe arrives. Maggie described him to me the day before, so I knew exactly who to look for. I have the feeling Maggie told him about me because he gave me a slight nod and warm smile as he opened the doors to the shop.

I take in the smell of fresh paint on the walls and varnish on the hardwood floors. The counters are onyx granite with an alabaster stone backsplash and plenty of shelves for coffee cups. The accent lighting provided a warm and inviting air. The coffee shop was very chic, with a large cozy settee in the center of the room, I could picture a large group gathering for a chat. Along the walls are plenty of tables, providing room for reading or listening to CD players. Unlike Milton's place, this shop had no TV mounted on the wall, which I prefer. To me, the sound of some relaxing music sets the atmosphere apart from the TV and jukebox sounds of the bar scene.

"Good morning everyone, my name is Alden McAuliffe, I'm the manager for this store and the sister location on Pike Street," the shorter man called out to the small group, "if you could all please fill out these applications, and place them in my folder here when you are finished; I will get the shop running."

He pointed towards a table that had a stack of applications on it and several pens. I took a seat at the bar, where his folder is placed and quickly filled out the application. Someone had walked into the shop, but I didn't bother looking up to see who it was, I was certain, it was just another applicant. My main focus was trying to think of another reference besides Maggie and Milton.

Why do they always want you to have three?

Alden had powered on all the equipment, the Automatic Drip Coffee Maker, a High-Quality Espresso Machine, an Industrial Coffee Grinder...From the cupboards and refrigerators below, he pulled out the various syrups, powders, creamer flavors, and milk and set them on the counter by the machines.

He was ready and so was I.

"Who'd like to go first?" He asked scanning the group of applicants who've now gathered at the bar stools with me.

"I'm ready," I said with absolutely no hesitation. I stood to my feet and removed my jacket, placing it on the bar stool.

"Great!" He answered back while grabbing a large coffee cup from the shelf, "I have room for one more back here, who'd like to join us."

The room was dead silent. I'd already made my way around the bar with my application in hand. For a moment, Alden and I just stood there staring at the people behind the bar, it was kind of awkward. I guess this crowd didn't know that there would be an actual test.

"Are you wanting us to make the coffee?" A woman asked Alden, she looked puzzled, which confirmed my notion.

"The job posting states that you must have basic barista knowledge." Alden brought a coffee cup to his hand and grinned cheekily, "surely you can make a simple cup of coffee."

"I can make coffee, but not with any of those fancy equipment." A man said, looking at the industrial grinder nervously.

Alden's smile slightly fades and he crosses his arms. "The job posting also states one must have basic knowledge of commercial barista equipment."

"Can't you just train us." Another woman spoke out boldly, her expression was of pure annoyance. I actually felt the same way she did, learning to make coffee with commercial equipment is not rocket science, there must be a reason behind why a person has to have prior knowledge.

"Here at StarPort, we set ourselves above the rest. We require that our staff either have formal certified training or previous barista experience. If you do not meet those qualifications, this position is not a match for you at this time."

The two women and the man huff in frustration, while muttering a few choice words. After they put on their coats, the trio storms out of the shop. There are still three people remaining at the bar. Alden took a pause for a moment while rubbing his furrowed his brow. He took a deep breath and turned to me.

"May I have your name please," He said, extending his hand.

"Michonne," I say, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Please Michonne, let's get started," He unhooked a hanging apron and handed it to me. I quickly put it on.

"What can I make for you Alden," I said with a smile, I knew this would be a piece of cake, there was not much he could ask for with the limited ingredients on the shelf.

"A very rich, warm, and chocolaty expresso." His voice trailed off as if he was dreaming about it.

"Coming right up." I grind the coffee beans, then pull two shots of espresso and pour them into a tall glass. Next, I mix in one ounce of chocolate syrup and then add steamed milk until it is almost full. Finally, I top it off with whipped cream and then garnish it with some chocolate flakes. I grab a saucer from the shelf and place his cup on top. "According to the board, the grand opening special is $2.25."

Alden beamed at me, took his coffee, and sipped. His face relaxed and he let out quite the moaned in pure bliss.

I chuckled inwardly, my coffee and my voice make the men-folk moan.

"I hand you a $20, how much change do I get back?"

I chuckled loudly this time, "17.75..."

I pretend to use the register while he digs into his pocket and pretends to place money in the tip jar.

"I'd happily leave here with 15 bucks for a cup of coffee this good," he says after taking another sip. And then another... Another and he moaned again...

"Thank you," not quite knowing what to do next, my eyes fix on the cup, "So, umm, what's next," I spoke in a voice that was barely audible.

"Oh...Of course, your hired, I'll see you at the grand opening on Friday, the business owners and partners, attend every grand opening, so dress to impress."

I try not to squeal like a twelve-year-old, so I thanked him again, shake his hand, wished the other applicant's good luck, and left.

I had the entire day to just relax and feel good about my accomplishment. After purchasing this month's bus pass and making my weekly trip to the store, I realize how much I really needed this new job. I make it back home a little afternoon and as I unpacked my boxes of oatmeal, a bag of apples, a half-gallon of milk, minestrone soup ingredients, and crackers; I call Maggie to share the good news with her.

"Congrats! I knew you could do it, " she sounded so excited for me, "another heads-up buttercup, you're going to be super busy that first week, but the tips easily make up for the hustle, after a week, all the hype dies down, still you'll have way more hours than you ever got at Milton's."

"That's just what I needed."

"What's your shift this weekend." She asked.

"Damn, I don't know yet," I thought about it for a moment and I didn't establish the rate of pay either.

"You'd better find that out before Alden sends your paperwork to HR, it's not like at Milton's, the StarPorts are a well-oiled machine."

"I saw that first hand," I gave Maggie the details of the interview and before hanging up I thanked her again for giving me the heads up on what to expect. I had left Alden a message politely letting him know I'd like to discuss my shift and my pay before I start.

And then there was idle time.

I decided to review my second source of income to see if this job was even worth keeping anymore. I like it because everything is so modern, I don't have to drive to an office or even go to the bank and cash my check. The pay is sent directly to my bank account. I log on to my online account to see how much money I made this week chatting. My excitement fades and I lower my head in disappointment. Only $75 this week. I use to make triple that, I didn't need a day job. Now, I'm lucky if I have enough to pay my rent each month after everyone gets their cut. I scroll down and review all the fees...and more fees and taxes...Fees for the internet and phone service prices have gone up, thus the agency fees are on the rise, which of course makes the consumer fees skyrocket, no wonder no one calls anymore. My stomach growled and I squirmed in my seat to try to silence the rumbling. I glanced at the clock; it was a little after 2 PM and I had not eaten anything, so I made myself some oatmeal. I diced a few apples, added some honey, a scoop of cinnamon, and a dash of sugar. I ate in my tiny kitchen, staring at one of my mother's paintings.

It was a leaf skeleton, its green flesh is eaten away to leave only a lacy cellulose network - fragile, natural, beautiful in its own way. My eyes traveled over its ovoid shape, thrown into sharp relief by the deep plum background. Art is part of our human soul. It is dreaming emerging from a part of ourselves, a way to communicate with the deeper self of both the artist and others. The same piece invokes different emotions depending on the person, their mood, their time of life. Art is pictured; art is sculpture; art is the creative word; art is music. We are all artists in our various ways, all born to be creative. The phone rang snapping me out of my thoughts, I jumped from my seat and answered the phone.

"Hi is this Michonne..." The voice on the other end asked, and I recognized it instantly.

"Yes, hello Alden, thanks for calling me back."

"No problem, and to answer your question, we are actually offering you a full-time position with this location, normally the store manager is the only full-time employee, but since I am stretched pretty thin working two locations, the GM approved the addition. Also, I could really use someone with your knowledge and talent."

"This sounds great," I responded. It actually sounded better than great, sounds like I'll be the manager. "Will I be in charge of opening and closing the store?"

"Yes, you will be required to work 8 hours, you'll be responsible for opening and closing the store, inventory management and new hire orientation, which I will train you on. You will be paid a salary of an entry-level manager and given full company benefits. We can go over more detail in orientation Thursday, just meet me at the coffee shop at 9 am."

Holy...Lord up above!

"I'll see you Thursday, thank you, Alden," I was positively stunned.

Were the people that came in today that bad? Did Maggie and Milton have any influence over this? I've never had a salary before, nor have I ever been given this kind of responsibility. When I'm nervous, I clean, I began to clean my tiny apartment from top to bottom. That didn't take long because my apartment is 400 square feet. However, I did have a nice size load of laundry in need of a wash, so I gathered my, quarters, laundry supplies, and headed to the basement of the building.

I put my Rolling Stone magazine down when the dryer buzzed and began folding laundry, it's quite relaxing. I love to feel the warm cloth, in my hands. It lets me be creative too, my mind is free to explore ideas, embrace new concepts, rise to new heights of thought. I am at peace doing this. I know it isn't glamorous, no red carpet required, but I'm not that kind of girl. I was just about finished when Gareth from across the hall, strolls in. If it was anyone else, this would not be an issue, but there is something off about this guy. If were to describe his clothes or hair, you'd think him so pedestrian as to not be worth the trouble. He's clean-shaven, average height, average build. But when he talks to me his eyes don't meet mine for long. They travel down to my loafers and almost back to my face, stopping somewhere around the locket I keep about my neck.

"Getting those dirty clothes clean..." His voice trails as if he's struggling against a backdrop of loud thoughts.

"I'm finishing up here, the machines are all yours."

I tell him, even though he has no laundry in his hand. I hurry up and fold my last undergarment and then after he fails to respond he snaps out of his lurid daydream and smiles at me like a guilty child. I turned back his way, he's still watching me, but quickly pretends to be looking for some lost item in the dryer machine.

After I put away my laundry and make my bed with the freshly laundered sheets; I plop down on the bed, my eyes began to get heavy and I fell asleep. It was a little after 9 PM before I open them again. In lieu of my unexpected nap, I decided to have a snack and get my minestrone soup cooked and transferred into storage containers in preparation for the upcoming week.

By the time I finished with that it was just after 10 PM. I was a little restless, so I logged on and was surprised to get a call soon afterward. It wasn't long before I found myself fiddling with my headset. I spun my pencil between my fingers and just waited...and waited... I sighed with resignation that would be another night of disappointment. I took the headset off and set it down. I reached for the mouse so that I could close all the windows, taking me offline and unavailable for calls. Just as I was about to click the final icon, I get a ping. It was a notification telling me I had a customer request.

**_Customer:_ RICK _requesting a private chat. Would you like to accept?_**

My heart rate went from 0 to 100 in a fraction of a second. I hurried up and reopened my windows and clicked **_YES_** so quickly I almost sprained my wrist.

 **RICK:** _"Hi Michelle, sorry it took me a few days to get back, I've been busy with work. Did you forget about me?"_

There was no fighting the giant smile on my face, relief flooding me as I typed back.

_Sorry, who is this._

I giggled to myself and I watched the loading dots pop up, indicating he was typing something.

 **RICK:** _"I'm the one who made your pussy wet when we talked on the phone."_

My cheeks flushed, and I debated what to respond with. Before I could reply, he started typing again.

 **RICK:** _"Don't try to deny it. I could tell that little moan you let out was a real one, not faked like I am sure it is for all the other men you end up on the phone with."_

_Maybe I'm so good at my job that you wouldn't be able to tell either way._

**RICK:** " _If you give me access to your private line, I can assure you that you wouldn't have to fake a single thing with me, whether I could tell or not."_

I tapped my fingers on the desk contemplating. Honestly, I didn't see how it could go wrong for me. He'd be paying extra for the private line tonight and any other night he called. The only thing was he'd be able to reach me, even if I wasn't online. I was still thinking about it when another message went through.

 **RICK:** _"Please, Michelle, I need your voice. I want to hear it late at night when I can't sleep, in the mornings when I haven't fully woken up and maybe in the middle of the day when all you can say is 'yes' or 'no' because you don't want anyone else knowing what you're doing."_

Oh my... I'm starting to get wet, my nipples hardened by every word I read. By the time I got to the end of the message, I was convinced. It might be a terrible decision, but I gave him the number of my private line without another word. Seconds later, the phone rang and I accepted the call.

"Thank you, Michelle, I was afraid you were going to turn me down.

"I wasn't for sure myself..."

"What made you give in?" He asked in that amazing dark and raspy voice, I closed my eyes to enjoy it more.

"I-I don't know..."

"I think you do naughty little Michelle," He paused, waiting for my response, but I had no idea what to say.

How lame is that! I'm a phone sex operator and I am at a total loss for words.

"I think you want to talk to me just as much as I want to talk to you." He said.

"I suppose that's a possibility."

"Where are you?"

"In my room."

"Where in your room? What were you doing before I called?"

"I'm sitting at my desk, in front of my computer, drawing."

"Really?" He sounded so surprised, "What do you like to draw?"

"Whatever comes to mind."

"I'd like to see your work someday, but for now, I have another question for you."

I'd became flustered when he said he wanted to see my drawings, and then relieved when he moved on quickly. I didn't care what the question was, I'd never shown anyone my drawings or any of my work.

"What's your question?"

"What are you wearing?"

I could hear the smile in his voice, and I laughed lightly at the typical question.

"Really, that's what you're going with?"

"Yep, but there is a catch; I want to know what you're really wearing, not what you think I want to hear."

"If you insist," I looked down at my attire, "I'm wearing light grey sweatpants that are a few sizes too big for comfort and a purple Fresh Prince of Bellaire T-shirt.

"Cute..."

"I guess what I really like about the shirt," I lower my voice and whisper in a seductive tone, "is that I've worn it so much that the neck is stretched out enough that it just kind of hangs off my bare shoulders, and it' basically see-through. And since I'm not wearing a bra underneath..."

I heard his sharp intake of breath as I trailed off. I exhaled and let the self-satisfaction fill me.

"I can just imagine the way it'd tempt my eyes to follow the line of your collar bone to where the shirt molds to the curves of your full and delicious breast."

"You'd defiantly be able to see the dark shadows of my nipples and the way they stand out through the thin cotton, begging for your hands or tongue."

"Shit, Michelle," his groan filled my ear, I need you to go to your bed, take off your sweats, and lay on your back."

My body was moving before he finished the demand. Letting my pants fall to my feet, I stepped out of them and fell back into my pillows.

"I'm there, Rick."

"Good girl..."

I let out a whimper at the two words, never knowing they could have that kind of effect on me.

"I want you to do everything I tell you unless it makes you completely uncomfortable. If it does, just say so and I'll switch gears."

"Okay," I agreed with more enthusiasm than I wanted him to know.

His quite laugh confirmed he knew just how excited I was for what was about to happen. I lay on my bed wetter than I've ever been before, waiting for the instructions that I'm sure would make me come...

****


	5. Chapter 5

**Rick POV**

God this woman...I was already hard as fuck imagining her laying in her bed in nothing but a see-through shirt and panties. Obviously, I had no idea what she actually looked like, but my brain helpfully supplied a vision of a beautiful brown-eyed, black-haired, petite woman with smooth dark skin. I ignored the resemblance of the imaginary woman to Michonne, choosing instead to focus on making Michelle come.

"Do you have both hands free?"

Yes," her voice held a slight tremble, and I bit back a groan at the sound.

"Good, I want you to run your fingers over your skin, starting at your thighs. Lightly trace invisible patterns working slowly up until you reach the edge of your panties. While you do that, tell me how it feels."

"I feel more sensitive than I thought I would, the feeling if my fingertips teasing my skin and lighting up my senses. My skin is soft, warm..."

I let out a sound of approval. "Now skim them up to your stomach, pressing your shirt up along the way. Imagine it's my hands touching you, learning how you respond, watching your face."

The sound she made was indescribable, making my need rise. I couldn't resist pulling my cock out of my boxers, the only thing I was wearing at the moment and wrapping my hand around it tight at the base.

"Now I want you to take your shirt off, relax into your pillow and run your fingers across your neck, trace your collarbone, and then your breast. I want you to tease yourself, Michelle, so don't touch your nipples yet."

Her breathing quickened over the phone, and I let my hand slide up and down my cock once, unable to resist.

"I'm so wet right now Rick, I can tell my panties are soaked without touching them."

Her words shot to my core an answering groan falling out of me. A drop of precum beaded at my tip, and I watched as it slipped down.

"Now pinch your nipples, naughty girl."

She let out a long and ragged moan and my dick twitched hard in my grip, more precum leaking out.

"Now keep one hand there and move the other down to your pussy, slip your hand under those panties of yours, and rub your clit in small circles."

"Fuck Rick," She was letting out moans without abandon now and I could no longer keep myself from stroking my cock, her sexy noises goad me on.

"Michelle, if I were there, I would eat your sweet pussy until you were shaking in my hands and coming in my mouth. I'd keep eating you until I drag another orgasm from you, licking up every sweet drop."

"Rick, you want to know what my pussy taste like?"

"Yes, Michelle, tell me, baby."

I heard a little pop noise from her lips and she moaned, "Mmmm, sweet with a hint of sweat."

My head went hazy, "Did you just taste yourself, Michelle?"

"I did, is that naughty of me?" her voice was playful, teasing and I fucking loved it.

"No baby, that is very good of you." Her throaty giggle came through and I decided to turn it up a notch. "Michelle, I want to hear you come. Whatever you like to do to make that happen, do it. I want you to tell me what you're doing."

"What do I get in return?"

"Other than a fantastic fucking orgasm? I will tell you what I am doing too."

"When I'm touching myself, I like to rub my clit with my two middle fingers so that I get pressure all around. And..."

She paused to let out another moan, and my heart pounded at the mental image of her naked, back arching for the stranger over the phone.

"Tell me, baby," My voice was deeper than before and I could feel myself getting to the edge.

"…And touching myself over my panties, I like the way the rough lace feels against my clit while I'm rubbing it. It makes me come even faster."

"Shit!" I groan clenching the base of my cock hard to stop myself from coming at those words. She said that with a little bit of shyness like she had never admitted that before and that hint of shyness drove me crazy.

"I'm really close Rick, please tell me what you're doing."

"I'm sitting in an armchair in my room, with nothing but my boxers that I pushed down to free my rock-hard cock; I've been stroking since you tasted your pussy. You've got me leaking come, I'm slowly stroking, rubbing my juice all around.

"Ahhh, God Rick" Her moans were getting louder and I moved my hand faster wanting to come with her.

"If I were there Michelle after I ate your sweet pussy until you begged me to stop, I would push my hard, hot, thick cock inside you. Moaning at the feeling of your tight wet pussy squeezing every inch as I pound you hard into your bed...or the floor, or against the wall. I wouldn't care where we were as long as I could feel you come around my cock and hear you scream my name in my ear. Come for me now baby. Give it to me."

Michelle let out a shout her words tripping over each other. "I'm coming, Oh Rick, I'm coming!"

I grit my teeth and tightened my grip only lasting another stroke up my cock before I started to come as well, breathing out her name as I did.

"Fuuuck Michelle!"

We both panted over the phone; a few minutes went by before we caught our breath. When a small laugh came from her end, I let the smile spread across my face. There is something about her laugh that just warmed me right up. I loved hearing it.

"Well," she said with a croaky voice, before clearing it and continuing, "that was something else."

"No shit, I came harder just now than I have in years."

"Really?" I heard the pride and hopefulness in her voice and I could just imagine her beautiful smile beaming at me.

"Yes, and I know you did too, by the way, you yelled out my name when you came."

She let out a scoff and I know she was rolling her eyes despite the grin on her face. "You're going to knock yourself out with that giant ego of yours."

"Nah, I'd be more likely to knock myself out with my giant di"

"Oh, My God!" She yelled cutting me off, the laugh in her voice obvious before she hung up on me.

I let out a laugh still chuckling while I logged back into the chat window. All I could do was hope she had not logged off.

 **RICK:** Why did you hang up, I was not done talking yet...?

It took a minute, but she responded.

_'I wasn't going to listen to you go on about your giant dick!'_

**RICK:** I would do no such thing, but since you mentioned it...

_'Goodnight Rick...'_

I laughed again.

 **RICK:** Goodnight naughty Michelle...dream of my giant dick baby.

* * *

****

**Michonne POV**

I met with Alden Thursday morning, I had lots of paperwork to fill out, more than any job I've ever had. After a while I stopped reading and just signed, all the while hoping I was not signing my soul to Satan.

"Michonne, I didn't believe Maggie when she said that you were manager material until I saw you in action." Alden was full of caffeine and complements as he sipped on my mocha latte, "The shareholders and company founders promoted me to General manager and deemed me as the 'eye that can spot talent' a mile away, now I'll be able to support you Maggie and all the other store managers."

I left with a feeling accomplished and apprehensive. This 30k a year job with benefits is amazing, but it comes with long hours and loads of responsibility. I don't think there is a way I could keep my job at Hot-Chat. That's a shame, things were really great with Rick.

The weather the next day was perfect for the Grand opening; the sun peaked out amidst big fluffy white clouds, the breeze cool and light. In between my numerous tasks, I glanced outside the large storefront window at the ever-growing coffee-loving crowd. Alden hired three people who were novice baristas at best. None of them had very much skill at making coffee. Luckily, they were all very good at everything else. Jim turned on the slow turning ceiling fans above, which connected to the sound system that played light jazz music. I proceeded to give my smartly dressed waiters their orders. Jim did a quick sweep of the terracotta rustic tiled floor, while Beth placed small vases of yellow carnation flowers on each table, and Rosita wrote the daily specials on a chalkboard at the entrance. I turned on the equipment and quickly moved to unwrap the premade croissant sandwiches, cream cheese smoked salmon bagels and coronation chicken baguettes for the display refrigerator. Lastly, the fresh fruit cups, scones, muffins, and a plethora of varieties of coffee cakes are set in the bakery display. My crew and I worked well, where they lacked in barista flare, they made up with excellent customer service skills. With some training, my crew had potential. So, I decided, that I'd make all the drinks for now. I assigned Jim to the register, Rosita and Beth will wait on the customers.

The café was busy, every table was occupied, the line was wrapped around the counter.

Still, I'd been there, done that for a lot less money. I made sure everyone got a good beverage and people seemed to love the food too. Eventually, the crowd began to dwindle down and by noon, the place looked like your typical café. Jim decided to tell bad jokes while we tidied up behind the counter while Beth and Rosita are wiping down tables.

"Hey, Michonne, what do you get when you mix LSD and birth control.?"

"I have no idea," I answer with a slight chuckle, still focused on counting the money in the register.

"A trip without the kids."

I let out a chuckle, he's a goof.

"What did the cannibal say to the other cannibal while eating the clown?"

I give him a quick smile and wait for his response.

"Does this taste funny to you?"

I burst out laughing at that one.

"Michonne is that you…" The approaching voice trails like his words are unwilling to take flight.

I look up from the register and gasp, my own words taking flight. I stared into those bright blue eyes burning with curiosity and desire and I am instantly taken back to my teenage years.

"Rick."

He saw the shock roll on my face before I could hide it. A small smile played on his lips, my eyes widen as I stared at him. The shock had nothing to do with seeing an old childhood acquaintance. I'm face to face with the voice that drove me into an abyss of pleasure. I just can't believe that the same man is also my very first crush. I can control my destiny, but not my fate. Destiny means there are opportunities to turn right or left, but fate is a one-way street. I believe we all have the choice as to whether we fulfill our destiny, but our fate is sealed.

Rick is fate!

I wanted to jump over the counter and kiss him. The way his eyes were devouring me, I'm positive I'd be received with open arms.

* * *

**RICK POV**

I'd did a walkthrough of the property and although it was very crowded, everything looked exceptional. Alden and I went to the back and had a brief conversation about his duties as GM. What's so great about Alden and all the guys on my team is that we are like-minded, I have no doubt my coffee shops will be successful. I plan on having at least a dozen by the end of the year, who knows, StarPort could become nationwide. Even if that never happens, I feel this is solid. I have my cousin Aaron to thank for that too. What he said is true, people in Seattle live for coffee. Alden was talking my ear off about a little bit of everything and nothing at all as I headed towards the exit.

That's when I heard it…

I heard her signature laugh and I froze mid-step.

Michelle!

She's here, in my coffee shop. My eyes followed the sound and it led me to the front of the store.

For a split second, I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing. A familiar face. A face, I never thought I'd see again, a face that I've been thinking of almost daily over the last decade.

"Michonne!"

As cliché as it sounds, it really was love at first sight with Michonne. But back then it was forbidden, she was just too young for me.

Her eyes captured me first, they're so beautiful deep, warm, and lined with thick dark lashes; her lips, full and pouty and my chest clenched when she started nibbling her bottom lip.

"Rick," she breathed out, almost whimpering. It was further confirmation that my forbidden fruit had grown up and became the voice the spurred me on like no other; my dream come true.

"You two know each other," Alden said, his high-pitched voice, snapped me out of my daze. "I guess I don't have to introduce you to our manager then, would you like to meet the rest of the staff."

"Perhaps at another time, I have another pressing matter," I answer, not willing to share anything with him. Michonne is all mine, he doesn't need to know anything about us.

"Alden, please give our manager my contact information. I ask, never removing my eyes from hers. We both gazed in each other's eyes longingly; not a word spoken by either of us. I was lost within the breathless paradise of her dreamy eyes. I was amazed at how she's become even more beautiful.

"Yes sir," Alden said, pulling my card from his billfold and handing it to Michonne.

Everything and everyone disappeared as I watched her reach over the counter for the card. She touched it, tracing her fingers over the engraved print as she read it. Her long dark lashes fluttering seductively as she did.

"Thank you," she smiled at me coyly, "I'll call you if I need anything." She added in that breathless and raspy voice. I momentarily forgot I was in public and I started to get hard.

I couldn't speak, not here… I wanted to say so much, confess my crush, tell her about everything that's happened since I left Atlanta for Seattle. I'm sure she's wondering how I came to own six coffee shops. I'm dying to know how she ended up here as a manager of my store by day and a phone sex operator at night. And of course, I wanted to see if our sensual phone conversations could possibly lead to more…But goddamn, this was not the time or place. So, I nodded at her, gave everyone in the vicinity a slight smile, and quickly left.

I have the feeling Michonne wouldn't mind catching up with an old friend.


End file.
